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Alexander Beisel Fall 2015 Alexander Beisel Delenda Est Jim introduced them to the game eight years ago. When they were kids, really. And ever since, Adam and Nate had done their best to beat him at it. The tradition was older than Elise and Jim’s marriage. She’d never take that away from him. “What’s it called?” Elise hated the game. “You know what it’s called,” Jim said. “I can never say it right.” She hated that he had something like this. “Casus Belli. It’s Latin—‘an act of war.’” Elise watched as Jim unfurled a map across the kitchen table. He smoothed the folds with the palms of his hands. He’d made it himself. Every location rendered in perfect detail. Each line drawn out with a nib-pen. Black and red ink. He’d used cold-press paper and stained it sepia with teabags. Burned the edges. It was systematically destroyed to make it perfect. “Map looks nice.” Elise had showed him how. She was the artist. She didn’t expect it to look so nice. Jim always ignored her expertise. But with this he’d followed her advice to the letter. It looked real. Something you’d see in a museum. Jim didn’t answer her. He centered the map under the kitchen light. When it was just so he placed a twenty-sided die at each corner. Elise picked one up and rolled it across the map. Jim snatched it before it landed on a clean facing. “You said you didn’t want to play.” Jim leaned on the table and turned to her. He’d make this face at her. Purse his lips and shift his eyes to the ceiling. She thought it was cute before she learned to translate it: I love you but you’re pissing me off. “I don’t want to play.” Elise hated that face now. She hated that her husband could put so much effort into something so fleeting. It was a game—little figures and dice and him a grown man. He’d take off work and set aside a weekend a month to play it. And Adam and Nate did too. She hated those two. She hated that once a month Adam and Nate took over her home. They stole her house and her quiet and her husband. But that wasn’t true. Jim gave himself to it. To them. To this stupid game. “Okay then,” Jim said. “Then let us play.” “I just don’t understand it. What’s the point?” she asked. “The point is to conquer, Elise.” Jim threw a handful of dice across the table. He smiled at the result. It meant nothing to her. She’d seen empires forged by snake-eyes and armies routed by boxcars. “How? It’s just a bunch of little figures and dice.” Elise tried to disguise her curiosity. She’d played before. Before they were married. She didn’t understand it then. She didn’t hate it then either. “Look, you’ve played before.” Jim motioned to his miniature infantry line. “Each player plays a general from history—I’m Marcus Atilius Regulus, Adam is Xanthippus and Nate is Hiero II.” He said the names like they were family members. As though she’d remember them from her wedding. Their wedding. “Each player has an army,” Jim continued, “and you fight it out—” “But they don’t actually fight—you just roll dice!” She laughed. “Yeah, and the hat token in monopoly doesn’t actually buy Boardwalk.” Jim said. I love you but you’re pissing me off. “It’s a game and it’s fun and you said you didn’t want to play.” “I don’t.” The doorbell rang. “That’s them!” Jim shot up from the table. Elise stayed in the kitchen. Her husband’s toys were all set in rank and file. They were little Romans. Painted soldiers all posed like they were in the fray of some important battle. She looked for the two she’d painted for him. She couldn’t find them. He left the rulebook in his empty chair. It was open. There were numbers and charts. Words she didn’t understand. The opposite page was a splash-frame of Julius Caesar. Beneath it, a quote. In war, events of importance are the result of trivial causes. Just like the game, she thought. No matter what you “conquer,” it all goes back in the box. She could hear Jim answering the door. “Fella’s! Welcome—welcome.” Jim held the door open and let Nate and Adam pass into the kitchen. They each wore backpacks and carried stacked boxes they kept in place under their chins. They set their things down carefully. The kitchen looked like army camp now. “Hey guys.” Elise hated Nate and Adam. “Elise! How are you?” Nate was Jim’s best man at their wedding. Whenever he could, he’d speak only in movie quotes. At their wedding Nate explained to the DJ “I’m The Dude—so that’s what you call me. That or His Dudeness or Duder or el Duderino if you’re not into the whole brevity thing.” Jim would laugh. He always seemed to know the movie. “Elise—you look great!” Adam was their officiant. She thought she’d like him when Jim told her he was a minister but an interfaith minister. When Jim first introduced them, Adam told her “excommunicates, homos, tranys, I’ll marry anyone the church won’t.” And then he laughed. There was a life before her, Elise knew. And she couldn’t be a part of it. Never would be. Jim walked slowly back into the kitchen. “Take a look at that map, fellas,” he said. Adam and Nate were careful not to touch anything. They didn’t pick up the twenty-sided dice. They didn’t move it from the light. How’d they know not to touch it? “This is fucking unbelievable!” Adam said. “Really ties the room together.” “Yup—don’t mind the sepia—it’s all going to be red by the end of this.” Jim smiled. Adam and Nate scoffed. She didn’t think people really did that. “Red like…blood?” she asked. The three of them turned. “No. Like Rome,” Jim answered. As if it were obvious. Jim offered each of them a beer. They accepted and began unpacking their things. Jim stayed with his coffee. Elise watched as Adam and Nate opened their respective kits. Egg crate foam swaddled hundreds of little toy soldiers. They had rulers and protractors and dice. Their backpacks were stuffed with books marked Casus Belli. “Did you guys bring any clothes?” Elise asked. Nate set a miniature chariot on the table and moved it slightly to the left. “Clothes?” He moved it back, deciding it was fine where it was. Adam answered in a way the other two seemed to accept readily. “What for?” he asked. “Are we going out?” He pulled a foam sheet from his box. There was something underneath it. “Oh! Did I send you guys the pictures of this?” It was a miniature war-elephant complete with a turret and archers. He held it under the light for them to examine. Jim and Nate marveled at it. “Holy shit, man! That’s amazing!” “Really nice, Dude.” Jim took it carefully from Adam. “Shit—you even painted the archer’s eyes?” Jim was stunned. “How long did that take?” Nate was impressed. “Not too long, actually.” Adam was lying. She could tell just by looking at it. It took days. He must have used triple zero brushes. At least three layers of undercoats. Another twenty in highlighting. All under that magnifying headlamp that mimicked natural light. He mentioned it to her once. “Presents colors as they would be seen in ‘real life.’” She never used one. Her colors were in real life. “Elise—look at this.” Jim offered the elephant to her. When she tried to take it he reminded her to only look at it. “A lot of detail.” And there really was. He’s an artist but not like me, she thought. He could paint these little toys well but not in the way she could paint murals and portraits. She actually got paid for her work—had people appreciate it and buy it and commission it. This was just a toy. Nate used a straightedge to position his spearmen in a perfect line. When they were ordered to his liking, he drew out a roster he’d made detailing the statistics of his varied units. “Jim—did you decide on a campaign?” Adam bent to the table so as to see Nate’s army at eye level. “Yessir,” Jim said. “Sicilian.” “Which war?” “First one.” Nate laughed. “This aggression will not stand, man.” “You fuckers are done.” Adam motioned to his prized elephant. “Donzo.” Elise looked at it one more time. It was marvelous on the table. It towered over the other armies. Fierce and proud. And dangerous. “What’s the naval operation?” “Late—I’m using Corvus. Delenda est, bitches.” Nate and Adam groaned. That meant something to them. “Alright,” Elise said. “I’ll leave you boys to it.” She filled a mason jar with water at the tap. “You working on your painting, baby?” Jim didn’t look up from the table. Too busy scouting enemy deployment. “Yeah. You boys have fun.” She left for the sunroom. *** It was ordered chaos. The walls were papered with sketches and measurements. A six-foot canvas dominated each corner of the room.
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